


Nothing Good Ever Happens After 2 am

by AwokenMonster



Series: Getting Into FOB [1]
Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: 2 am suicide rumour, Kinda sucks but had to start somewhere, M/M, Patrick fucked up in an interview, first fic for this fandom sorry, new song
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-15
Updated: 2017-12-15
Packaged: 2019-02-15 04:08:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13022931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AwokenMonster/pseuds/AwokenMonster
Summary: Patrick accidentally called Pete an attention whore and figured Pete wasn't talking to him about the shit in his head so he found himself in Pete's room at 2 am, asking his best friend why he had pills in his pocket.A little bit of PeterickT for mature subjects?





	Nothing Good Ever Happens After 2 am

**Author's Note:**

> Monster: Hi guys! First times always suck and I only got into the fandom since about a week ago so... excuse any mistakes or bad characterizations but I usually write for Hollywood Undead so I'm not used to the band's behaviour yet. Though I hope to get familiar with Peterick fics soon by writing more one-shots about them. Enjoy!

It started out as just something stupid I said. I didn't even know why I said it or why I didn't think before saying it. For some reason all rational thoughts seemed to leave my mind when it came to Pete.

It wasn't like I wanted it to hurt or like I wanted him to hear about it but it just… We were just talking, laughing and joking about stuff. Just Joe and I on an interview when someone asked about annoying habits.

God, I wish I had put some thought into it when I said: "Pete's a bit of an attention whore sometimes. Like. Always going 'Look at me! I'm feeling bad, cheer me up!'. It gets a little exhausting."

I probably said it a lot worse than I'm making it out to be right now but that's how things go when you get caught. You clean up what you said a little, maybe subconsciously, but you still do, because you feel guilty. Like they're rightfully angry with you.

I did feel like a piece of shit about saying it but it was just an interview and we'd said worse things about each other. Right? We were friends. No one could take something like that serious enough to be hurt about it.

Right?

Afterwards we walked our way back. We had some minor packing to do. The suitcases had to be ready to get on the bus next thing in the morning, so we could leave early. On to the next destination.

Back at the hotel, Joe and I parted ways. I shared a room with Andy while he shared one with Pete. For a change.

"How was it?" the drummer asked, back towards me when I entered as he was hunched over his bag.

"Fine", I replied. I didn't feel like talking about my bad reply. I was horrible at interviews anyway so it wasn't important enough to mention.

By the time I was done packing everything I didn't need for the night, I had forgotten all about the stupid thing. "I'm so tired and we didn't even play tonight."

"Tired already? Come on, Patrick! You said we'd go see what the night had to offer?!"

"No way. I'm not going out anymore", I groaned, flopping face first onto my bed. "I'll stay here. You go with Joe and Pete."

Andy sighed, remained in his spot while he stared at me but when I didn't move, he shrugged: "Ok" and he left the room.

I lay on my bed for a while, keeping my eyes semi-closed but in the end, I realized I'd have to do something or I'd feel lazy as hell. I scratched my hair, looked around while pulling myself upright. What could I do? I skimmed the room, eyes stopping at my guitar, rested against the wall. Well, the evening always offered the best ideas? I grabbed my acoustic guitar and started playing some random songs. Some by our own band, some by other bands. There was something about the freedom of playing whatever you wanted without an audience.

Song to song, note to note. Nobody gave a shit about what I was playing.

In the end I didn't even know what song it was anymore, just mindlessly fingering the strings. Until I played a little tune I enjoyed.

That one wasn't so bad.

I played it again and each time I replayed it, it made me smile more.

Did I just get an idea for a chorus melody? I think I just did. After the tenth time playing it, I realized I needed some lyrics for the song. I needed Pete.

But Pete was out with Joe and Andy.

Ah fuck it. I decided to call him anyway.

When I dialled his number, I could hear his ringtone in the other room. He forgot his phone, didn't he?

That was pretty unusual. Pete never left his phone behind. He was paranoid about people getting into his room. Did he even know?

I sent out a quick little text message. Well, I ended up sending Pete "you forgot your phone" before realizing how stupid that move was.

_To Joe: Does Pete know he forgot his phone back here?_

After hitting send, I lay my phone down and played the tune again. I couldn't forget it. I had to play it so I would remember it when Pete got back. My phone vibrated.

_Joe: The fuck are you doing awake? It's 2 am._

What?! No way!

I checked the clock on my phone. 1:51 am. Really?! The evening flew by like it was nothing.

_To Joe: Crap, I had no idea. Why are you guys still out?!_

_Joe: Because it's fun. And Pete didn't feel well. He's still in our room but I think he might be asleep by now._

Pete didn't tag along? Great! I got up, abandoned my guitar and left the room to knock on the one next to ours.

"Pete? Are you awake?" I whispered against the wood.

I put my ear against the door, tried to listen. I could hear movement inside so I stepped back with a smile, expecting the door to swing open.

It didn't.

I knocked again. "Pete, I know you're in there. I could hear you walk around. Open up?"

With my ear against the door again, I could hear more rustling. Did I wake him with my knocking?

Great, now I felt guilty.

Though the door reluctantly opened to reveal a very awake Pete. "What?"

Maybe I didn't exactly wake him but the deep eyes told me he'd been having trouble sleeping. Or crying. But Pete never cried so why would he now?

"I need some lyrics for this awesome tune I got in my head. I could play it to y-… Are you ok?"

Usually when I mentioned a new song, he'd interrupt all excited but now he was only staring at me blankly, like he didn't even know what I was talking about.

He raised an eyebrow at me, only opening the door enough so I could see him but not into the room. "Why do you care?"

I furrowed my eyebrows. "Why wouldn't I?"

Something was up.

"Because I don't want to attract any  _attention_ ", Pete spat at me, trying to close the door as he withdrew inside his room but I placed my arm against it and knocked it open. He didn't expect me to push back and stumbled backwards.

I took the opportunity to enter the room. It was dimly lit but I could see Pete's glare directed at me. He had his arms folded, almost like he was trying to become smaller and smaller.

"What's up?" I asked confused.

Pete rolled his eyes. "Don't pretend to give a shit. I got the hint. I'm an attention whore when I come to you with my shit."

"What? No-… You're talking about the interview?"

How could he know that already?

"Joe told me", Pete murmured. "Said you called me an attention whore."

"Yeah, because you fucking love the spotlight, don't you?" I tried to defend myself but he was right. I was in the wrong here.

"Could you just fucking apologize instead of trying to turn this around?!" Pete yelled and I swallowed a lump in my throat. My pride probably. "I'm sorry, ok? I didn't mean to say it like… that."

He nodded. "Good. Now get out."

"But wait, I need your help with a song!" I complained as he tried to shoo me out of the room. What was his deal anyway?

"It can wait."

I was probably being paranoid here. Whenever someone would get offended by my words but told me it was fine, I'd always get attached to try and figure out if it truly was ok or if he was lying to me.

Maybe he just wanted to sleep?

"Why do you need me to leave so quick? What are you hiding?" I tried but the slight pause in his steps to the door told me he WAS hiding something so I searched the room with my eyes.

"Holy shit, did you raid the mini bar?" I asked and that finally made him stop pushing me. "Yeah."

I pointed at the half empty bottle of liquor. Wonder if he and Joe had been drinking or if Pete was the one to down half a bottle. I should've noticed if he downed half of it. He had always been bad at hiding the buzz in his head.

"Management's gonna kill you for it."

"It's just a bottle", he murmured, avoiding eye contact.

"Did you drink all of that?"

I couldn't help but ask.

"A bit."

God damn it, Pete.

I pushed Pete aside to enter the room when I heard something rattle. "What's that?"

"Tic Tacs", he lied and I blinked. "You're joking, right?"

"Nope, breath smells", he said sarcastically.

"Good. Then can I have some?" I asked, holding out my hand but he tensed. "No."

"Why not? My breath smells too."

"Yeah, but people know you smell bad so they're gonna suspect…"

"Cut the bullshit", I warned him. "Show me what's in your pocket."

My best friend licked his lips, eyes to the ground as he took out a small bottle.

"Pills? Again?"

"Quit judging me already", he murmured. "I wasn't going…"

"Wasn't going to what? Kill yourself?"

The words made him flinch, face in disgust as he pointed at the door. "Just go away, Patrick!"

"No, I'm staying. What were you going to do if you weren't going to eat them all with a bit of liquor, huh?"

Sarcasm seeping into my words.

"Why do you  _care_ , Patrick?! I'm  _fine_ , now go!"

For a moment we stood there. Eyes connected, both glaring at the other waiting for someone to cave. In the end, I blinked and said: "Fine. But I'm taking the pills with me."

I snatched the bottle out of his hands.

This wasn't over yet, but probably not the best thing to discuss at 2 am.

On my way to the door, I looked over my shoulder once more. When did he become so small? Almost like he shrunk to half his size since I walked in. So fragile, so… What was the word for it?

Damaged.

Yeah, he looked damaged and I had no idea how it slipped past me to see it. I shook my head and stepped out the door, feeling something weakly hold me back.

I looked down, a shaky grasp on my arm.

Pete was holding me back. Literally. My eyes travelled up the arm to his face, shielded from me as he kept his eyes to the ground.

_I'm fine, now go._

He didn't want me to go. So… he wasn't fine?

He let go of me, arm dropping to his side again. Would he say something? I turned around to fully face him when he dropped against me. A muffled "Don't go" into my neck. He'd never admit saying it, I knew that for sure but he said it and it was one step closer to admitting he wasn't doing fine that night.

I reluctantly wrapped my arms around him, breathing a little harder due to his iron grip around my waist. "It's ok. I-I won't go."

What a confusing night.

I closed my eyes, felt the steady heartbeat in my chest against his. There's something about hugging someone with the same height. I liked it. Not that I'd ever admit liking a hug from Pete. He'd never let me live it down. He'd probably mention it online somewhere to fuel the fandom without asking me…

After what seemed to be an eternity, he let go of me and took a step back. I didn't like the sudden loss of heat, almost wanted to pull him back in but that would be weird so I let him. "You want me to stay for a while?"

"Yeah", he answered. "I'd like that. Maybe I can help you with that new song."

"Really? What do you wanna write about?" I responded surprised.

Pete shrugged. "Just tonight. I need to get it off my chest but I can't… talk about it? You gotta sing about it for me. Be my voice."

The way he said it, made me shift on my feet. It gave me a weird feeling. Something in between a glow of appreciation and a certain feeling of pride? I had no idea.

We spent the next hour working on lyrics and parts of the melody because you just can't write a chorus without verses. It makes everything meaningless.

"That's a pretty good", he said, leaning in to look at what I was doing on the guitar.

I played it more slowly so he could see it. "Thanks", I smiled, eyes making contact but he shied away and it confused me even more. I wasn't going to pry so I continued playing.

Pete put his hand over the neck of the guitar, silencing the strings. "Why'd you say it?"

"What?"

"You know what", he scolded.

Oh… that. "I don't know. I wasn't really thinking about anything."

"So you don't think it's exhausting when I come to you with my troubles?" the older man mused.

I shook my head. "I don't think that but like, I think I said it the wrong way. You're just so fickle sometimes. Either you'll stand there smirking, going 'I'd totally do Patrick Stump' or you're in a hotel room thinking about offing yourself again. It's hard to guess what's it gonna be and it's exhausting to worry about that all the time."

The bassist shrugged. "It's hard to tell you what it's gonna be if I don't know either."

Maybe I should've considered that. Maybe I should've thought of it that it might be harder on him than on me. God, how selfish.

I lay down the guitar next to us.

"Tonight. Was that… because of what I said?" I wondered nervously.

Pete shrugged again and I hated it. Quit being so careless about this subject. It's your life! "One of the things in the pile, I guess."

"I'm sorry. I never meant to kick you down more", I mumbled.

"It's fine now. I get what you were trying to say", he pleaded, putting down the notebook he'd been writing in. "Don't feel bad."

"I just want you to talk to me. Not just feel bad over something stupid I said. Ask me about it. Talk to me about this shit on your mind so that I can make it better", I requested and Pete cracked a smile.

God, I loved that smile.

Wait, what?

"I appreciate it and thank you for being my voice tonight."

"Any time."

'I love that smile', what the hell was that all about?

Joe interrupted our conversation, surprised that we were still awake and even more surprised to see us sitting on Pete's bed like that. And pretty close too. When did that happen?

I got up. It was time to head to bed anyway. I'd feel it in the morning. Though I was slightly disappointed. We were having a great talk about something below the surface. Something he hadn't shared with anyone, just me. Classified information hidden in his mind. I could hear it in his voice but I could see it in his lyrics too.

Strangely Pete followed me to the door, going on about the song like we never stopped writing it. "We'll work on it in the morning, right?"

"Right", I agreed and he smiled again.

Crap, I did love that smile.

In my room Andy was getting ready for bed. "Oh hi, where were you?"

"I was with Pete, working on a song", I replied.

"How was it?"

"Good… Good", I repeated to myself, opening my mouth to voice my thoughts but I closed it again before anything came out.

"What's up?"

"Never mind. Nothing good ever happens after 2 am anyway. We should go to bed. I don't wanna be all groggy in the morning when we leave."

"I don't know, I had a pretty good time after 2 am…but you're probably right", Andy agreed.

Though the thoughts didn't leave me alone as I tried to sleep. It made me both anxious and excited. Tonight had been real, no lies and no joking to hide anything at all.

Shit, I think I'm in love with Pete.

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave a comment, they're our heavy fuel!


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